


What Greater Gift

by raendown



Series: MadaTobi Week 2019 [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-12 00:14:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20162491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: "What greater gift than the love of a cat" - Charles Dickens





	What Greater Gift

**Author's Note:**

> MadaTobi Week Day 5 Prompt: Modern with magic AU // Soulmates AU

Hashirama’s smile of greeting instantly melted away in to a pout when Madara gave him no more than a perfunctory wave as he passed by his friend, venturing further in to the house without a word.

“Madara! Where are you going?”

“Where’s your cat?” Madara called back, knowing another pair of ears would hear him as well. Just as he’d thought, a protesting snarl came from down the hall. He was smiling when he turned in to the immaculately clean room he usually found his other friend in.

Tobirama’s massive furred body was stretched out across the perfectly made bed he seemed to prefer for his naps. Madara had no idea if he had simply taken an interest in the guest room and claimed it as his own or if Hashirama had deliberately set up the guest bedroom as a haven for his feline pet when they had no one else to fill it but either way this was where Tobirama could be found most often, shamelessly coating the bedding with his fur.

Madara was smirking as he strolled in, dropping himself on the end of the bed and stroking a hand across the back of his friend’s neck. Tobirama purred even as his red eyes blinked open to glare at Madara.

“Who do you think you’re calling a _cat_?” the snow leopard asked him. Madara shrugged unrepentantly.

“You are one of the ‘great cats’ species, are you not? If you keep growling at me I won’t give you the present that I know you can smell.”

He waited for Tobirama to huff and look away, deliberately not rebutting that his species was not actually one of the great cats, before reaching in to his pocket and retrieving the packet of meat he had brought with him today. Years of bringing similar treats had inured him to the feeling of picking out a piece of raw pheasant and holding it out with a flat palm. Tobirama’s purring rumbled louder as he snatched it up delicately with his razor sharp teeth, giving thanks by being extra careful not to bite anything he wasn’t supposed to. Madara fed him all three pieces by hand and then resumed petting while Tobirama licked his jaws.

“An acceptable offering,” the animal allowed. Madara took his turn to huff.

“Hah! Acceptable my ass, you love pheasant.” He scratched briefly behind the animal’s ear before getting up. “Coming?”

Tobirama stood and stretched before leaping gracefully from the bed to lead both of them back down the hall where Hashirama was still pouting about being passed over. Madara felt no guilt. He was as much friends with Hashirama’s unique pet as he was with the man himself.

He’d been awed at first when he met Tobirama. Hashirama wasn’t even a witch, it was incredible that he had managed to acquire a familiar. Yet as time went on he came more and more often to the conclusion that Tobirama must have been the one to choose his master rather than the other way around. He was a proud animal and Madara had never seen proof of any partnership between them other than a friendship similar to the one Madara had been blessed with. He couldn’t imagine what had drawn two such opposite beings together but it was hardly his place to question it; bonds like the one between familiar and master were sacred and very personal, certainly not to be asked about as one casually asks what’s for dinner.

“Tobiiii!” Hashirama whined. Tobirama wound between his legs and wrapped his tail around the man’s waist like an approximation of a hug.

“Don’t call me Tobi,” was all he said.

Madara snickered as he washed his hands and when he was done began rooting through his friend’s cupboards for a pre-dinner snack. Mito wasn’t home to reprimand him about ruining his appetite before they ate so he could afford to break a household rule or two – as long as she didn’t find out. Mito _was_ a witch and a powerful one at that. She was fully capable of hitting him with some very uncomfortable curses if she discovered he’d been eating only an hour before dinner. Or she could just banish him back to his own cold and empty home for a week, that was always punishment enough to remind him how to behave.

With a handful of crackers in hand Madara retreated to the living room where he sat down on the floor with his back to the couch. Tobirama paced a few circles around the coffee table before curling himself down on the carpet and dropping his great head in to Madara’s lap, purring when the petting resumed immediately. Hashirama followed after them but tucked himself in to the other end of the couch instead, snickering in their direction.

“Feeling affectionate today, Tobirama?” the man asked in a teasing voice. Tobirama gave a short snarl but didn’t bother to move and went back to purring almost seamlessly.

They passed the rest of the hour until Mito returned by watching some stupid popular television drama. When his friend’s wife arrived she brought dinner with her, one large paper bag of take out for the three adults, already knowing she would come home to find Madara there as well, and one medium sized package from the butcher for Tobirama. All of them moved back to the kitchen the moment she stepped in the door, following the smell of whatever deliciousness she’d brought for them today.

Madara had also thought at one point that Tobirama might be Mito’s familiar. She wasn’t as obvious about her skills as most prominent witches tended to be but someone as powerful as her should have endless trails of unbonded creatures begging to be her familiar; that she didn’t had made him thoughtful when he first started spending time with them all. He’d never been boorish enough to ask but in the end he hadn’t needed to as their behavior had made it obvious many times over since then that Tobirama did not stay here for Mito’s sake. Certainly they got along but they could barely be said to be any sort of friends. Their relationship began and ended at mutual respect. If anything, he would have said they acted like distant relatives.

He simply couldn’t see Mito getting away with the sort of things Hashirama did. Things like sitting on the floor to groom Tobirama’s nails or pulling him in to tight, cuddling hugs with no warning or fear of mutilation. Each time something like that happened Tobirama would huff and snarl and wriggle in protest, yet his escape attempts never seemed to have much heart in them and he was always very careful not to injure Hashirama in the struggle. Most telling was the way he inevitably gave in to these random affections after making it clear that he objected in some manner.

“Oh, Madara!” he was pulled from his musings by Hashirama’s teasing tone. “I ran in to my cousin the other day. Tetsuo? He asked about you.”

Madara groaned at the same time Tobirama let out a quiet growl of displeasure.

“Tetsuo? You mean that idiot who kept fawning all over me at your Christmas party? Spare me.” He shook his head, stopping when he noticed the glint is his friend’s eye and the evil smile hovering around Mito’s lips.

“Does that mean you wouldn’t be excited to go on a date with him this Friday?” Hashirama tried to look innocent and Madara didn’t believe him for one second.

“Excited? Of course I wouldn’t be excited!” He leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “What have you done, bark-for-brains?”

“I didn’t do anything! Except maybe tell him that _of course_ you would be willing to meet him at the restaurant near his work.” The stupid fool began to cackle over his own joke as horror quickly filled Madara’s face, dread settling in his stomach. Tetsuo was an absolute idiot and Hashirama was very aware of his disgust for the man. Unfortunately his friend had been in the mood for pulling all sorts of terrible pranks lately. He always had thought he was funnier than he actually was.

A hefty swat expressed his feelings on the matter rather succinctly. He was extra satisfied to see Hashirama nearly face-plant in to his plate of dinner. Sitting next to him on the bench that had been pushed up to the table specifically for their shared use, Tobirama made the distinct coughing hissing sound that denoted his feline laughter. While many might have found it odd to see a giant cat sitting up at the table with the rest of them, it had been so long that at this point Madara just accepted it as normal. This family was weird. If it bothered him he would have stopped visiting so many times a week.

“You owe me _big time_,” he growled at his friend. Then he turned to Tobirama and screeched, “It’s not funny!”

“Of course it is. You having to spend an entire evening listening to that idiot’s drivel? We should take bets now on how long you last before throwing your drink in his face.” His fangs glinted in the light of the tame spirit Mito kept in place of candles. She always said it gave dinner a more intimate mood but Madara just felt like he was being watched while he ate.

Everyone else at the table ignored him when he crossed his arms and fell back in to a sulk. Throwing his drink in Senju Tetsuo’s face sounded grand but they all knew he wouldn’t do it. An idiot the man might be but he was also a powerful witch, odd considering Madara had never met any other true blooded Senju with so much as a drop of magic in them.

Actually that wasn’t true, according to Hashirama they all had magic in their blood. It was just that in most cases it refused to manifest in to any sort of ability. Their bloodline was considered excellent for breeding but it was always a gamble whether the child would take after their Senju ancestors or their other parent, stronger than the previous generation or completely powerless. Mito herself had delivered the news only a week before that she was with child and with that announcement she had also firmly declared that her child would receive the same love no matter which of their families it took after.

Madara let his eyes roam over the pair of them and wondered for the hundredth time if Mito was hiding the ability to read his thoughts, watching as she lifted one hand to caress the belly that had not yet begun to grow. The urge to fall back in to sulking returned when Hashirama reached over to entwine his fingers with hers. Seeing the backs of their hands next to each other with the identical marks they had both been gifted with at birth only soured his stomach with a disgusting kind of longing sadness that he tried his hardest to push away. He knew very well that there was little point in letting their happiness affect his own but it was hard sometimes.

Finding one’s soulmate was something everyone yearned for despite knowing how rare the phenomenon was. If there was one thing he envied the Senju clan for it was their odd knack for finding the ones fate had chosen for them. Hashirama and Mito had been disgustingly in love since the day he met them and that hadn’t changed in the years since. If anything they might have actually gotten worse, holding their heads close together as they talked about the future, debating potential baby names without regard for how little other people within earshot cared. Madara liked to think that he would have that strong of a bond with his own partner but to find out he would need to meet them and to do _that_ he probably needed to put himself out there a little more. Which meant accepting dates with perfect strangers and getting to know them well enough to share marks.

The very thought was abhorrent. Sharing his mark with someone it wasn’t meant for? It felt akin to baring his very soul for an unworthy person to judge.

“I think I’ve lost my appetite,” he murmured, recognizing that he wouldn’t be able to stop the landslide of thoughts trying to drag him down. Better that he removed himself before he could bring down everyone else’s mood as well. Hashirama called after him in confusion but Madara waved him off. “Nothing, I’m fine, I just…got a little stuck in my head. Leave me alone until I get back out.”

Without further explanation he disappeared down the hallway and headed for the back door. He never heard the footsteps padding after him but he did hear the startled yowl when he let the door go and it closed on Tobirama’s shoulder. The cat huffed and butted him in retaliation until he sighed and reached down to ruffle fluffy ears.

“Thought I said leave me alone.”

“I don’t count,” Tobirama announced loftily. “You were talking to him.”

“Mn. True.” He had to admit that it was. Hashirama’s particular brand of cheering up had never been his favorite and with how suddenly the mood had hit him it probably wouldn’t be a great idea to let himself be smothered under the perpetual cheer of such a bright person. Sometimes he just needed to let himself be grumpy.

Tobirama, at least, understood that. Neither of them said anything as the leopard padded ahead of him and slipped in to the natural spring just passed the edge of the porch. For a cat he sure did seem to enjoy the water, so much so that Madara had once tried to look in to whether snow leopards were in any way distant relatives to tigers. He wasn’t generally a studious man, though, so he’d give up before reaching any sort of conclusion one way or the other.

Settling himself cross-legged at the edge of the porch, Madara was grateful for the companionable silence that fell between them, using the time with his thoughts to sort through them and compartmentalize while he watched his furry friend do laps around the spring. Watching Tobirama swim was just the sort of amusement he needed at the moment. His movements were a combination of his usual grace and the innate ridiculousness of a cat in water, paws clawing at the water to propel himself forward and head tilted back to keep his nose above the lapping waves, willing to dunk every part of himself but his nose. It was surprisingly easy for Madara to let go of other worries in favor of smiling at the picture he made.

After several minutes it occurred to himself that he would probably relax even more if he went for a quick dip himself. Mito’s charms buried all around the pool kept the water at a pleasant temperature akin to a lukewarm bath and lounging in the quiet waves created by Tobirama’s paddling sounded particularly lovely at the moment.

His friend paused and stood on a submerged rock to keep his balance when he noticed Madara pulling at his sweater.

“What are you doing?”

“Joining you for a swim, what’s it look like?” The wide collar betrayed him by catching in his hair anyway but he managed to struggle out of it eventually and reached for the hem of his t-shirt.

“Isn’t your soul mark on your chest? You’ve always been so careful not to show it off to anyone.” Tobirama shifted and nearly lost his footing on the rock he was using for a perch. Madara snickered at his clumsy scramble to right himself before his whiskers could be soaked.

“Actually it’s on my abdomen,” he corrected. “But you’re a _cat_. Don’t care if you see it.”

He tugged his t-shirt off and shoved his pants down while Tobirama was still struggling to find better footing, setting his clothing aside and checking to make sure he hadn’t chosen white boxers that morning. Nothing would be more embarrassing than having to walk by Hashirama and Mito with his bits on full display when he went in to find a towel. Once he confirmed that today’s choice had been a pair of solid dark blue he felt safe to dip his toes in to the water and wade out passed the edge.

Then he stopped when Tobirama turned to look at him and yowled in surprise, sending himself toppling headlong in to the deepest part of the pond. Madara was bent double with laughter when the poor leopard surfaced. So distracting was his laughter he didn’t even have the self-preservation to run when Tobirama headed straight for him despite knowing intimately how deep those claws could gouge when truly angered. It wasn’t until his friend reared up on his hind legs that Madara stopped and braced himself, surprised when he got two paws on his shoulders instead of claws in his gut.

Even more surprising was Tobirama’s fascination with his soul mark, utterly motionless as he bent his head to stare at where it rested an inch or so below his bottom rib.

“I’m not _just_ a cat, I thought you knew that.” Tobirama sounded oddly breathless in a way Madara had never known felines were capable of. The confused question he was opening his mouth to ask died on his lips when he heard, “Apparently I am also your soulmate.”

“You what!?”

Tobirama blinked at him once and then Madara’s jaw almost unhinged itself when the shape of his face began to warp, less and less feline by the second. Whiskers receded, ears folded and melted away, fur retracted, and when it was all over he was staring at a very _human_ man with snow white skin and hair like an untouched winter, eyes the same red as they had always been with three lines tattooed on his face to match. In a word, he was devastating. He was also so unexpected that Madara found himself reeling backwards from the shock and crying out when he put one of his feet down only to find nothing there to step on.

Water exploded around him as he crashed down in to the deeper parts of the pool. The last thing he saw was a pair of wide red eyes and then the world was nothing but darkness and wet. It took a moment of fighting through his instinctual panic to figure out which way was up and when he broke the surface he had to reach blindly for the shallow rocks so he could catch his balance to stop and claw the hair away from his face. Tobirama was where he had been before, still staring in awe.

“You’re a fucking _person_!?” he screeched, still trying to process.

“I thought you knew that! Did you really think I was just a leopard that happened to hang around the house?” Even having never seen this face before Madara could tell that eyebrow was being lifted with heavy judgment.

“Of course I did! You’ve never been anything else! What the hell!?”

“Ah, I suppose that is true. I prefer my other form over this one. It’s much more comfortable and it excuses many behaviors – like naps. Everyone expects a cat to nap.” He seemed to be taking this revelation much more calmly than Madara.

Though that may have been because this wasn’t actually a revelation to him. What was keeping his attention the most was the mark now dripping wet where it sat just below Madara’s ribs. Through the haze of his own shock it occurred to Madara that the last person to see his mark was Izuna several years before when it was just the two of them enjoying an empty beach on a rainy day. So protective was he of the mark that was meant only for his soulmate that Madara hadn’t even removed his shirt for his last two boyfriends, short relationships both and probably for that very reason.

Still gaping, he watching as if in slow motion as this man – this _very human man_, he still wasn’t over that bit – lifted a hand to trace the mark below his own ribs that, incredibly enough, was indeed a match for Madara’s own. His entire brain felt as though it were screeching to a halt when he finally saw what was had apparently been right there under his nose for years. This was his soulmate. Standing before him was the match he had been quietly waiting his entire life to find, would have waited the rest of his life to find, the one his soul was fated to bond with the most strongly. Here was the one that rumor said was supposed to make his soul feel like he had finally found home.

Oddly enough, he did. Being with Tobirama had always felt like coming home, although he’d never quite thought of it like that before. Even as an oversized feline Tobirama had been something more than a friend that he’d never bothered to define because until now it hadn’t mattered. Now he finally understood. What he had felt was potential, the connection between them forming whether they knew it or not, though it was impossible for him to have felt any sort of romantic yearning when he’d thought Tobirama was nothing more than an intelligent beast.

Madara’s cheek twitched.

“You fucking bastard,” he ground out. “I knew you looked familiar – you’re in all the photographs in Hashirama’s living room!”

“Ah, those. He always insists I return to this form for family photos.” Tobirama’s expression scrunched up with distaste and Madara twitched again, incensed but unable to pinpoint why.

“Just how much time do you spend as a damn cat?” he demanded.

Tobirama’s eyes dropped to stare at Madara’s mark again, his voice distant and distracted with other thoughts when he answered. “Most of it. Actually Mito has been trying to convince me to take this form long enough to find employment but it’s hard for her to talk when I have the ability to just fall asleep as soon as I hear her coming.” He shrugged one shoulder, fingers twitching, reaching halfway across the space between them and then snatching his hand back just before making contact. Madara stared at him.

“You’re a _bum_.”

“Well that’s rude.”

“An unemployed freeloader napping in your friends' spare bedroom because you can’t be bothered to get a damn job! Oh for spirit’s sake! What have I gotten myself in to?”

“I’m not a bum…”

“Yes you are!” Madara blinked and the tirade he’d been about to unleash was abruptly cut short when Tobirama finally worked up the courage to reach out and brush his abdomen with hesitant fingers. His thoughts scattered and redirected back to the other issue at hand, leaving him off-balance yet again.

For a few moments neither of them said a word. They were standing quite close to each other still, enough so that Madara was able to watch the slightest changes in the other man’s expression as he traced warm skin, admiring the shapes and the colors that no tattoo could ever replicate. It took a while but after a few minutes of watching so intensely he slowly began to see it, that spark of familiarity, all the expressions he was used to seeing on the face of a leopard translated in to human form. Not that he had in any way doubted that this was his friend. Having just watched the transformation happen right in front of his eyes disapproved that theory before it could even form as an option. But it was enough of a connection that the face before him now seemed less of a stranger, less of the right person in the wrong skin.

It was enough to make him press a lightly shaking hand over the one exploring his skin, shocking Tobirama in to realizing just what he was doing though he didn’t let him pull away, and lift his other hand to explore the match to his own mark where it was framed in pale white skin.

“At least,” he murmured, “we get to skip over the whole awkward ‘getting to know you’ phase. Though I have to admit it’ll take some getting use to, seeing you like this. And I better be seeing you like this!” Tobirama gave vent to a very put upon sigh but the corners of his lips were twitching with the shadow of a smile when he answered.

“Yes, yes, fine. I promise to take this form more often if it will make you more comfortable to know that I am indeed human. Now, would you like to head back inside or have you calmed down enough yet?”

Madara turned to eye the pond. He’d been looking forward to a proper soak but discovering his soulmate had indeed calmed the sadness in him that he originally came out here to combat. A flash of triumphant amusement rose briefly when he realized that he now had the perfect excuse to reject that idiotic Tetsuo and avoid sitting through a few hours of misery trying not to offend such a powerful witch. Anything that kept him out of Tetsuo’s clutches was cause for celebration.

Finding his soulmate felt like a massive weight had been lifted from his chest; knowing that it was someone he already got along with was an extra bonus he could not have anticipated and he was doubly grateful that he got to skip over the awkward phase of dancing around each other, worried over whether or not they might be put off by his volatile temperament or some other bad habit. If anything Tobirama seemed to enjoy his crankiness. Whenever he was upset and needed someone to vent to without unnecessary advice being offered Tobirama was the first one he always turned to. And after he had wound himself down he was usually rewarded with a massive furry head in his lap purring loudly and demanding pets because Tobirama knew damn well how calming Madara found it to comb his fingers through all that soft fur.

His thoughts were definitely getting off track. Shaking his head to bring himself back to reality, he turned back to Tobirama with a smile as gentle as his naturally grumpy face was able to accommodate. 

“No, I’m fine now,” he said. “Let’s go back inside.”

Without thinking he held out one hand – and seemingly also without thinking Tobirama took it. They headed back towards the house with their fingers entwined in a loose grip, already striking up an easy conversation about something interesting Tobirama had seen on one of the television channels he insisted Hashirama put on for him. Upon stepping inside they turned down the hallway towards Tobirama’s room rather than head back to the kitchen.

They made it almost an entire hour before Hashirama was brought hurrying in to the room at the scream of “WAIT, BROTHERS!?” that echoed all throughout the house. It was a peaceful hour, at least, filled with open offers and possibilities that Madara would be more than happy to look in to as soon as he got his head wrapped around the fact that he was apparently soul matched to Hashirama younger brother rather than just a bum that lived in the house. He was going to be part of that idiot’s family in some way or another for the rest of his life.

Madara wondered, not for the first time, why fate had to be so cruel.


End file.
